Lost Boy
by Tif S
Summary: No curse AU: Henry was five years old when he first met Peter. He finds solitude in the boy's reckless abandon especially since his life seems to be falling apart around him. He discovers Neverland at the same time and the lines begin to blur dangerously. Nine years later, Henry's life takes another turn when Neal Cassidy reenters their lives and Henry meets Killian Jones.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: Hello fellow Oncers, I've had this idea for a while, and I'm so happy that I finally got it written down. This will be a Henry centric story and as it says in the summary, Peter Pan will be making an appearance as well. The only difference is there is no curse, so this will be an exploration of sorts and very different for me. Kind of a what-if. I hope you enjoy this first chapter.**_

* * *

 **Chapter One: Discovering Neverland**

Henry was five years old when he first discovered the power of his imagination. He was sitting on the steps of Storybrooke Elementary on a Friday afternoon. All of the other boys and girls in Henry's grade had already been picked up for the weekend. Henry's dad was late. His mom was working at Granny's just five blocks away and had told his daddy that morning in an angry voice that he had to pick up Henry. Daddy had said fine. He'd walked out with his coat over his shoulder, rubbed Henry's hair in the way that he hated and said he'd see him at three right Sport? The big hand was on the 6. Henry knew that the big hand had to be on the 12, and that meant that Daddy was really late. He felt himself trembling as his vision blurred with tears.

"Henry?" The voice was gentle. He recognized it. He looked up to his his teacher and Uncle David's fiancee, Mary Margaret. "Is your Dad not here?"

Henry sniffled shaking his head.

"Come inside Henry. We'll go talk to Miss Mills." Mary Margaret held out a hand which Henry took.

Principal Mills was a friend of his mom's. Aunty Regina came to visit every other weekend, so he wasn't scared of her like the other boys, but that didn't mean that he wasn't nervous. Nervous and scared were two different things. That's what Uncle David told him. The office lobby was huge. Chairs lined the side as he and Mary Margaret entered. She was busy speaking to the gray haired secretary which allowed Henry time to break away and look around. Older boys that had beat up Henry and his friends on the playground jeered, but one of the boys simply stared, a passive interest on his face. Henry couldn't help but stare back. The boy couldn't be older than eight or nine. His eyes reminded Henry of the grass at the park, a bright green that sparkled with mischief and promised fun. Henry walked over, going unnoticed by Mary Margaret. "Hi! I'm Henry."

The boy continued staring, sizing him up before he broke into a grin. "What kind of name is Henry?"

Henry frowned. "It's mine. What's yours?"

The boy laughed. "I like you kid. I'm Peter." He held out his hand.

His gaze was torn away from the boy's hand when Regina spoke and Henry startled running back to Mary Margaret's side. "Miss Blanchard, I hope you have a good reason for coming in without…" The woman stopped midsentence, softening as she saw Henry Swan-Cassidy. "Hello Henry."

"H..hi…" Henry's voice came out a whisper as he burrowed into Mary Margaret's dress. He hated that look that grownups gave him, especially when it was Aunty Regina. Her eyes went all fuzzy round the edges and her mouth didn't smile. Not that it really did, but it always did when she saw Henry. It scared him when she didn't even though she was the principal and not his Aunty right now.

"What are you still doing here? Shouldn't you be playing Nintendo at home?" Regina crouched in front of him looking up at Mary Margaret with a look Henry couldn't figure out, but he knew it was another grownup secret.

"Go on Henry." Mary Margaret squeezed his hand.

Henry took a deep breath as he felt the tears stinging. "Daddy was supposed to be here at three. He isn't here and Mommy's working at Granny's. I'm not allowed to walk even though it's only five blocks. Mommy said so."

"Is that so?" Regina pursed her lips as she walked around to her desk where the phone sat.

"I can drop him off at David's." Mary Margaret said. She looked at Henry. "Would you like to go with me to see Uncle David Henry?"

Henry smiled. Seeing Uncle David was always fun. "Yes please Miss Blanchard."

* * *

Neal cursed as he looked at his phone. It was three-forty. He was supposed to have been at the school for pickup at three.

"Cassidy."

"Mr. Cassidy, this is Principal Mills." Regina. He almost forgot that woman worked at the school. "You were supposed to pick up your son at three o'clock, correct?"

"I know. I know." Neal sighed. The light was too damn bright right now. "Look, I'm sorry, I'll be there. Just gimme, just gimme twenty minutes."

"Okay, professional pretense aside Cassidy," Regina said. "I'm talking to you as a friend. Whatever hole you've dug yourself in, you better get yourself out. Your son's been sitting on the curb for a damn half hour crying his eyes out, because you can't stay out of trouble."

"I hear you loud n' clear." Neal pressed his thumb into his eyes, the words coming out in a slur. "I'll be there."

"Don't bother." Regina said. "I already called your wife. Mary Margaret and David are taking _your_ son for the afternoon. Just sober up and come up with a better excuse than working overtime."

"S-" The line went dead. "Sure." Neal slammed his phone down. _Fuck._ He turned to the man beside him who was looking at him with a sneer.

"Gee, you got yourself in the pits with more than just the boss man huh? Wife and kid too?" The man was hulking about three heads taller than Neal himself with a head of blond hair that fell into his face.

"Don't try to bond now Huck." Neal snapped. "I know what you guys want, and I told you I'm out!"

"You're out when _he_ says you're out Cassidy." Huck leaned toward him letting his snake scale breath out in the other man's face. "Once you give what you owe, then maybe he'll be willing to talk about you all of the sudden walking straight and narrow." He looked to the picture on the phone screen, Emma and Henry smiling up at him, Henry wearing one of those paper crowns from the fast food place he liked so much. "Wouldn't want anything to happen to that little prince of yours would you?"

"Go to hell!" Neal stood slamming his hands on the bar.

"I'll see you there pal." Huck laughed clapping Neal on the shoulder and throwing a bill on the counter before leaving.

* * *

"Thank you David. You don't know how much I appreciate this! I hope he wasn't too much trouble." Emma ran into the apartment still in her Granny's uniform. She saw Henry asleep on the tattered couch, the Disney movie still playing in the background, and once again she felt the anger bubbling up. How dare Neal forget! Henry was his son too.

"No worries Em'." David said. "We love having him here."

"Henry couldn't cause trouble if he tried." Mary Margaret shook her head.

Emma sighed sinking down into one of the kitchen chairs. "I...I don't understand." That single broken phrase could describe every moment since that day when she'd first met Neal Cassidy. It had been a whirlwind romance, full of passion and trouble, trouble which her older brother had been involved in bailing her out of, that had ended in a pregnancy and a ring on her finger: a promise that he would always be there to support both of them. And where was he? Hell if she knew!

"It's alright." Mary Margaret sat across from her taking her hand. They both looked over to where the boy was sleeping. "You're doing your best Emma. That's all you can ask of yourself."

Emma shook her head releasing a bitter laugh. "Sometimes, I just wonder, how things got so screwed up!"

Mary Margaret and David exchanged a look as a loud knock resounded on the door growing more insistent by the second.

David opened the door barely getting out of the way as Neal stormed in.

"God, I'm so sorry Em'! I just... they needed me to do extra work down at the plant! I completely forgot." The man ran nervous hands through his hair, pacing, crazed. David could see the red in his eyes, smell the staleness on his breath. It took every ounce of self-restraint in him to let Emma handle it. He could tell by the set line of her mouth that she was planning to do just that.

Next to the hole that his father was boring in the floor, Henry stirred, letting out a soft moan. "Ma…"

"You gotta let me explain! I know I said I'd pick up Henry and I know you probably want to murder me right now, but-"

Emma stood and in three long strides was in front of him speaking in a terse whisper. "Can you _shut up_ and save it? Your _son_ is asleep!"

"Ma…" Henry stirred once more and turned to face the couch, his back to the scene that was going on. If the adults had been paying attention, they would see that he was awake with the pillow over his head and tear stains on his cheeks.

* * *

"Hey kiddo, you all set?" Neal stood outside Henry's bedroom noticing that the boy was staring outside where the fire escape snaked downwards, his Superman PJs feeble protection against the fall chill outside the open window.

Henry glanced back only briefly. "Daddy, can you help me?"

"What do you need?" Neal felt the briefest sensation, fleeting, but there nonetheless as he walked across the room. Acceptance. Henry needed his help with something. It was small, but Neal knew if things kept going the way they were, it would be less and less frequent. So was he wrong to treasure it?

"Do you know where Peter Pan's star is?" Henry looked up at him with eyes so full of hope. His Daddy would know the answer. Why then, did it catch Neal so off guard?

"Peter Pan's star?" Neal smiled. "Don't you remember, second star to the right…"

"And straight on till morning." Henry finishes with a grin which slips. " I know but…"

"What's up?"

"Is it _real?_ Like really really?"

Neal was at a loss. The answer should be obvious. He should know how to answer his son's question. Nothing like that was real. He had learned that a long time ago, the hard way, but Henry… Henry was so very different than he had been at that age. Magic, faith, fairy dust. It was all hope and _his_ kid wouldn't be allowed to have his hope crushed. He wouldn't do that… not anymore. "Of course." Neal said. "Long as you believe it." He pulled Henry onto his lap, sitting on the fire escape criss cross applesauce. "Look up there." Neal grabbed Henry's hand in his guiding it until it was pointing to the biggest and brightest star, second to the right.

"Is that it?"

"That's it."

"Wow," Henry squirmed adjusting so he was kneeling on his dad's legs facing him. "Can that be our star too?"

Neal felt a lump in his throat laughing. "I don't know Kid. Does Peter Pan share?"

Henry scowled. "Uh huh Daddy! He's Peter Pan. He's got a whole bunch of kids to share with. What's two more?"

He said it so matter of factly. He was so sure of things. Neal could almost forget the suitcase, forget Emma's sharp demand, forget Huck and the boys and the trouble, forget that it would be his last night doing anything like this with his son. He could simply content himself with sitting out on the fire escape on a crisp fall evening running his hands through his boy's hair and fueling his never ending imagination.

"Alright my Prince," Neal said. He lifted Henry. "Ooh, you're getting heavy. Time for bed."

Henry laughed. "I'm not that big yet."

"Just you wait. You'll be a _giant_. " Neal placed him on his bed, his arms spread wide.

"No you'll be a giant!" Henry shouted. "I love you Daddy!" He sprung forward into Neal's arms.

"Love you too Henry, so much. Sweet dreams." Neal planted a kiss in his hair before he turned heading to the door.

"Wait!" Henry said. "Can you leave the window unlocked? Just in case Peter Pan comes."

Neal stopped. "Sure thing." He walked to Henry's window making a show of not touching the latch. "He'll be able to make himself right at home."

Henry burrowed himself into his pillow. "Goodnight Daddy. I'll see you tomorrow."

Neal's heart sank. He didn't have the heart to correct him. "See you Henry." As the door clicked shut behind him, he couldn't stop the tears.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Well, what do you think? Please let me know. I love feedback. There will probably be about one to two chapters left with little Henry before the time jump which will be the primary time frame of this story with fourteen year old Henry. Until next time!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Hey, I couldn't stop myself. Chapter two is ready. I don't own Once Upon a Time. If I did Neal wouldn't have died and Killian wouldn't be trapped in the underworld and there'd be a lot more Charming family fluffiness. Anyways... on with the show.**_

* * *

 **Chapter Two: Fly Away Savior**

Neal waited until the clock struck midnight. It was the only sure way to know that Henry was asleep. Their apartment was small. If he was awake, he would hear the latch. The kid had ears like a bat. He didn't bother going into his and Emma's shared bedroom. She'd made it pretty clear she didn't want to know when he left.

" _No goodbyes, no promises. Please just_ go _."_

" _Emma…"_

" _Don't make this any harder. Say goodnight to Henry and go, don't save any for me,"_

Neal sighed sinking into the couch as he looked at his watch. Ten minutes. He had ten minutes to make a game plan. He could ignore it, he could ignore Huck's demand easily, hop a plane to Tallahassee and never look back, keep things the way they had been. He wouldn't even have to open that door, but then what would happen to Henry and Emma?

His cell phone beeped and he looked at the text message, a blocked number, but he knew who it was. **Remember he has eyes everywhere. Get what we asked for and everything will be fine.**

Neal pushed the button on his phone, clearing the screen. 11:59. He had to go.

He didn't consider taking the bug, even as the cold bit through his gloves. His destination wasn't far, and the car was Emma's. No question about that. He could see his breath, vapor wisps swirling through the evening sky. He kept his hands in his pockets, useless! The chill had nothing to do with the weather.

The storefront was small, smaller than he remembered, but no less imposing. Walking up to it made him feel fifteen again, out past curfew. What was he thinking? The store wouldn't be open. He was probably already in his upstairs apartment tucked in for the night.

"Bae?" The pet name made him freeze as the tinkling of the bell above the door sounded to reveal a slight man leaning on a cane, squinting through reading glasses. Aiden Gold. "Come in." The _tap tap_ of the cane was the only sound Neal registered as the man turned back to him already well inside the store with Neal still standing out under the light of a streetlamp. "It was not a request."

* * *

Henry woke up early. He always woke up early on Saturdays, pancake day at Granny's. He couldn't wait. He pulled on his slippers, the ones with Spiderman's face and ran over to his parent's room.

"Mommy, Daddy!" His feet slid as he grabbed the door frame to steady himself. "Alright…" His voice dropped to a whisper. "You got one chance, target locked." He grinned as he ran forward jumping into bed, expecting to land in the well between his two sleeping parents. He was shocked when he landed on a flat surface. Maybe his dad was already awake, and he was letting mommy sleep to make up for forgetting to get Henry at school yesterday. Maybe he'd bring hot chocolate with cinnamon and lunchbox cakes like he did whenever they fought. Henry could help him! He slid forward just about to jump out of the bed.

"Hey Baby," his mom reached over, grabbing him by the hand. "What are you doing up so early?"

Henry grinned. "It's pancake day, don'tcha remember?"

His mom sighed. "Oh my gosh, I… I completely forgot. I'm sorry Henry!"

Henry frowned. "Didn't Daddy tell you? He's making you hot chocolate right?"

His mom's eyebrows knit. She bit her tongue. Henry saw that look again, just like Aunty Regina. "Kid…"

" _Right_?" Henry was frozen to the spot. His dad's place in bed was empty, nothing even looked wrinkled. It was just like what Nicholas had said on the playground after Grace had come to school crying. _The fighting gets worse and worse and then they don't sleep in bed together and then the mommy kicks the daddy out._ "Is it like Grace's Daddy? Is that why you didn't remember pancake day?" Henry jumped down and ran out of the bedroom. Maybe his dad was still here. Uncle David could help find him.

"Henry!"

For the first time in his young life, Henry didn't listen.

* * *

The phone rang once, twice, three times. Mary Margaret rolled over turning to where the phone was perched on the nightstand, the display lit up with the familiar number.

"David?" Mary Margaret grabbed the phone tapping his still sleeping form. "David?"

He let out a loud snore which caused Mary Margaret to giggle. He'd stayed late at the station. She would answer, let him sleep. Emma would call back if it was something she couldn't tell Mary Margaret.

"Hello," Mary Margaret said.

"Miss Blanchard…?"The tiny voice on the other end of the line pulled at Mary Margaret's heart strings. It was Henry and he was crying.

"Henry, what's wrong sweetheart?"

Mary Margaret listened as Henry explained, started talking about Grace, a girl that Mary Margaret was very familiar with, and a classmate of Henry's, and Nick Zimmerman's straightforward explanation about divorce. Oh god. It clicked into place. Emma had been serious when she'd told them that Neal could pack his bags.

"Hold on a second Henry." Mary Margaret placed the phone down before she turned to where David was asleep shaking him gently. "David, David!"

"Mm… Mary Margaret, what's wrong?" David blinked sitting up slowly.

"Henry," she replied. She held out the phone, pushing the speaker button. "Hey kiddo, Uncle David's here too."

"Uncle David…"Henry sniffled. "You find people right? For your job?"

David glanced sideways at Mary Margaret. ' _What's this about?'_ He mouthed. Out loud he replied. "Yeah, sometimes. If they're in trouble and need help. Why?"

"Will you help me find Daddy?" Henry said. "I think he's in trouble with Mommy. I wanna help him."

David sighed, pushing the speaker button off as he placed the phone down.

"David!" Mary Margaret grabbed his arm. "You can't just…"

"I'm not." David waved her away. "Talk to him, just… I need a second to think."

"You are. David!" Mary Margaret groaned, but obliged grabbing the phone. "Henry, Uncle David will be right back, he just had to brush his teeth." It sounded lame even to her own ears. She watched him pace back and forth. She knew it was eating at him. It was bothering her as well. They both knew that Neal and Emma had their differences. David had told Mary Margaret of the difficult time that they had gone through as teenagers when Neal Cassidy first entered the picture. It had seemed at the time, David had said, that Emma had finally found someone to notice her, in the way that her family hadn't been able to. But after Henry had come along, that had all changed. Neal was a good father… when he was around, but he hadn't been, and for Emma, no explanation was good enough. "David," Mary Margaret bit her lip.

"I know. Tell Henry I'll pick him up in an hour." David gave a half smile. "You know, actually…" David held out his hand for the phone. Mary Margaret handed it to him. "Henry, I'll be there in an hour."

* * *

Henry sat on the fire escape. There were no stars out, it wasn't even night, but he didn't care. Mommy didn't like him being out here by himself, but he didn't care about that either. Right now he was almost positive he hated her. She didn't even seem worried that his dad hadn't come back, but he had seen her crying at the kitchen table over a bowl of Frosted Flakes. He'd wanted to go to her, to see if she was okay, but then he remembered. She'd done what Grace's mommy had done, and then he didn't want to anymore. It made his head hurt.

"Henry?" He looked up as he heard the fire escape ladder fall down. Uncle David was pulling it and climbing up. "How you holding up?"

He shrugged turning away slightly. Uncle David put an arm around him. "Anything you wanna talk about?"

"Daddy said I'd see him! He's not here" The words spilled out. "He _said_! But Mommy made him break it!"

Uncle David didn't reply. He pulled Henry closer. Henry lay his head on his uncle's knee.

"Why Uncle David?" Henry's shoulders shook. "Why'd he leave?"

"Honestly Buddy?" Uncle David sighed. "I wish I knew."

* * *

Emma watched through Henry's open door. She'd been watching the whole time after she'd noticed that Henry had seen her with the cereal. Why hadn't she said anything? She didn't know, but it was something she was good at, not being noticed unless she wanted to be. As she watched her brother with her son, the emotions welled again. Why was she putting her son through this? Another question she couldn't quite answer, but she knew it would be better for him… in the long run. Her love for Neal. It would always be there, but he was always in trouble, trouble she couldn't bring her son into. It may have been okay when she was seventeen and stupid, but she had Henry to worry about. She couldn't risk him, not like she risked herself. Henry wasn't disposable. He never would be. He'd saved her… in a slightly different way than Neal had all those years ago. It was best for all three of them. She was only saving her family in the way they'd saved her. Henry would understand, maybe not now, but she could put up with a few temper tantrums. It was for the best.

* * *

 _ **A/N: So what'd you think? What do you think Neal's up to? Any guesses? Alright so a bit of a sneak peek for chapter three: Neal and Gold, and David, Emma and Henry have a chat, as come Monday, Henry has a run in with those pesky older kids at school and a friendship forms. Among other things.**_


	3. Chapter 3

**_A/N: Well, chapter three's ready. This one was fun, and kind of got away from me a little bit, but I managed to reign it in. Hope you enjoy. Once again I own nothing but the plot._**

* * *

 **Chapter Three: Spin a Tale, Weave a Web**

The shrill whistling of the ancient tea kettle woke Neal from a deep and nightmare filled sleep. The clock on the wall said eleven. He had never slept this late. He sat up, expecting to see the living room of the Swan-Cassidy abode, but as he looked around the room he came back to himself. He'd slept this long because Henry hadn't awakened him. He slept this long because he was back at a place he'd never thought he'd venture to again, and the man that was filling the tea cups was too wracked with the regrets of the past to even chastise him that he might be in the way.

"I was going to wake you." The soft lilt came to Neal's ears. "But I didn't want to disturb your sleep. You seemed as though you needed it."

Neal finally allowed himself to look properly upon the man he hadn't seen since adolescence. He'd played out this moment many times in his head, the moment when he'd meet his father again. Of course none of them involved him crashing at his place after years of not speaking, because his wife had kicked him out. None of them involved his father looking so frail, so put out. None of them involved the text message that was burning a hole in his pocket. All of that aside, Neal was a mixed bag. He didn't know whether to beg forgiveness or start shouting in the old man's face.

"Thanks…" Neal rubbed the drowsiness out of his face, already feeling the effects of the previous afternoon in the form of a thousand dwarf sized hammers. "For that...I mean…"

"No matter." his father waved the hand that wasn't holding a mug. "Won't you join me?"

Neal sighed, nodding as he walked over to the small table sitting across from him. He looked around the apartment. It looked like an extension of the shop with a variety of knick knacks, each having their own mysterious purpose. His old man could up the view count of Hoarders singlehandedly. The expected adornments: photographs, shelf ornaments and table lamps were far outnumbered by eccentricities and baubles. Since the eve of his sixteenth birthday, Neal notes, Aiden Gold managed to acquire at least eight more dream catchers and that was only in these doorways.

"Bae…"

" _Don't_ call me that." The request came out harsher than he intended. Neal would blame the stress of the last few days, but this has been more than a few days in the making if he was completely honest, something Neal Cassidy couldn't say about himself. Not in the same way that Aiden seemed to recall from the boy that had held that other name. It was one of the many things that had made him different. He remembered asking his father why he didn't just use the name Neal. He had to have been no older than eight after he was called into the headmaster's for refusing to answer roll call.

" _Papa, why do you call me Baelfire," Neal tapped his lip with his tongue, whooshing the broom around the shop, one of his few chores after school let out. "When everyone else calls me Neal?"_

 _His father looked at him, his eyes twinkling in amusement. "Names hold power, more than you can possibly imagine."_

 _Neal frowned leaning against the broom. Why was his father so...so cryptic? Yeah that was the word, from their last vocabulary exam. "Yeah, but why? Nobody else in my class has two names." That wasn't exactly true. The boys teased each other by using both names when they got into fights, but none of the others' second names were as weird as Baelfire. It was usually something ordinary like James, Michael, or Ethan. and his Papa never used Baelfire when he got into trouble. He was always Neal Samuel Gold. So he actually had about… too many names, but this wasn't something he was proud of. It made him feel funny._

" _Did I ever tell you what your name means?" His Papa's voice jumped in that way that signalled a story._

" _Which one?" Neal grinned._

" _Cheeky!" Papa got behind him scooping him up and tickling until he couldn't breathe._

" _I give up, I give up!"_

Courage, a blazing bonfire. Neal, Baelfire. " _I call you Bae, Baelfire, so that you never let that spark go out."_ At the time, Neal had thought his father's logic amazing, like a secret between the two of them, but as he got older, he began to hate the name. It brought out teasing from the boys that had once been his best friends. His father's occupation became less of an adventure and more of an embarrassment. " _Your pop's nothing but a loony wizard! You aren't at Hogwarts Gold. He just leaves you cause you're a freak just like he is. He can't stand you."_ So, it was definitely safe to assume that his harshness came from _years_ rather than _days._

"I'm sorry... Neal." Just like that Aiden Gold folded. He could see that the man was struggling to broach the next topic for discussion slender fingers tapping the mug as he scrolled through an immense calendar in his mind, days, months, ages. "How's the boy?"

He assumed this a safe subject even as the distance seemed to broaden rather than shrink. Henry, Neal's pride, his constant joy. But… Neal noticed again. Aiden's grandson was always _the boy_ , never Henry, never his name. For all his talk of names having power. "Henry… his name's Henry." Neal's voice broke as the events came back. "And...I don't know."

A quirking of an eyebrow was the only response Neal received, along with an accompanying hum. His father rose to his feet and grabbed a second mug pouring the liquid in as a blend of spices reached Neal's nose. The second mug was set in front of him as finally, finally, the man spoke. "This wouldn't have anything to do with why you were in front of the shop at Hell's hour?"

Hell's hour. This was another oddity. Aiden Gold believed in a number of things that Neal couldn't quite understand, a superstitious old fool. A wizard. That was his father.

"Midnight Pop." He hesitated nodding more to himself than Aiden. "Yeah. She kicked me out." He stated this as a fact, quick and painless, even though it was anything but. He didn't want to cry in front of this man. He couldn't let himself get comfortable, otherwise he wouldn't be able to make himself do what needed to be done. Distance and resentment were his best allies.

* * *

Emma walked ahead to the kitchen table, unsure at the moment. She felt more like a little girl than ever, even more so than the young boy that was stomping, giant glomping and purposely angry steps after his uncle. David wore his serious business face, a face he had inherited from their mother, a gentle woman at any other time, but one who excelled at explaining serious matters and was equally apt at delivering swift marks if the matter required such. Unlike Emma, David wasn't a parent, but anyone who didn't know him and was observing the moment wouldn't be able to guess by the way he lifted a kicking Henry who was trying to run off, and placed him in the kitchen chair between himself and Emma.

"We're going to talk about this," David walked around to the counter grabbing a cereal bowl with the image of one of the cartoon dwarves, the one that didn't speak if Emma remembered correctly, which made what her brother said next, in a purposely and exceedingly goofy king like voice even more ironic. "Anyone who isn't holding this bowl has to listen-"

"David. I don't think…"

He held up a hand looking at Emma. "Has to listen to what the bowl bearer is saying _without_ interruptions."

Henry laughed. "You got in trouble Mommy!"

Emma shook her head, smiling in spite of it all. Even in her own house, David managed to make her feel like such a _kid_.

David walked over taking his place at the table. "Alright, Henry tell Mom and I what's bothering you." He placed the bowl on the table, sliding it over to the boy like a hockey puck.

Emma had prepared herself. She thought she had, so why was she feeling like she was tied up, like she couldn't escape? As Henry's eyes met hers, she felt all of the old instincts returning: the urge to run. She didn't want to hear this. Only David's grip on her arm, a reassuring squeeze, and Henry's eyes, so eerily like _his_ but full of trust rather than closing her off pushing her away, kept her in that kitchen seat as her son spoke. "Why did you make Daddy leave?"

A _whoosh_ as the bowl slid her way. Reflex warred with instinct as she held it, wanting to push it away, wanting to break it if she could, break the bowl instead of his faith in her instead of his respect for his father, the man he so admired. How was she supposed to answer this? "Kid…" Deep breath. "He had a job to do." The lie rolled off so naturally that by the time she had spoken, she'd already come up with a background story. She ignored David's eyes on her as she continued, her superpower protesting the whole way _,_ sounding an awful lot like her best friend. _You're digging yourself into a hole Miss Swan._ "The fire department called him to go to the city. You know he fights fires right?"

Henry nodded. It was true. He'd seen his daddy wearing the blue safety shirt, seen his fire boots, and the helmet that made him sound like Darth Vader.

Emma sighed in relief, Henry seemed to buy it. Never mind that Neal was only a volunteer firefighter. It served her purposes. And he'd come to a heroic end in her son's eyes. All she would have to do is spin a little tale.

Later, Emma sent Henry to his room to do his reading for Mary Margaret's class. Now it was only her and David.

"What the hell was that Emma?" David sat on the couch running his hands through his hair.

"What was I supposed to do? I _am not_ going to turn Henry against his father. He may be a jerk to me, but…" She was near tears. "What he did do, he did right. I don't want to ruin that."

"And when he doesn't come back?" David said. "Then what?"

"I'll make something up."

"Emma!"

Her shoulders shook, her voice came out choked. "Please... David…"

David shook his head "Em… what you're asking… it's insane."

"If you won't help me, at least do it for Henry." Emma said.

"I'll call Leroy." David sighed. "Tell him to spread the word."

"Thank you David!" Emma gave her brother a hug.

 _Don't thank me yet._ David returned the embrace. Emma's schemes still made him nervous, and this one, this one took the cake.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Alright, so Emma made quite the situation for herself. How do you think that'll turn out? What do you think's up with Gold and Neal? Next chapter we find out what Neal's doing as he reconnects with an old friend and jump to Monday with Henry at school as Mary Margaret tries to help him.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: This chapter was quite a bit of fun to write. This is where reality begins to blur for our young Henry, and for Neal as well I'd wager. You'll see what I mean. As usual nothing is mine, except the plot.**_

 **Chapter Four: Cross My Heart and Hope to Fly**

The shop wasn't open yet. On Sundays Gold opened late, after Church time, not that the man was particularly religious. It was only good business. Belief in magic didn't always correspond in belief in all things. It made him paranoid. Gold could safely say this. It was better to let people believe what they would, easier than changing their minds after all. Changing one's mind was a task that he'd never been particularly partial to. It was messy. Planting ideas was one thing, changing a mind that was set in its ways was something entirely different. Even when it came to his boy.

He watched the man helping polish some merchandise. His son had grown up fine. It was a pride that a father could never escape, despite time, despite mistakes on both of their parts. But there was something on the man's mind, Gold could see it as clearly as he could see the polishing cloth going back and forth almost brutally.

"Bae, are you alright?" Gold walked over, placing a hand on the small side table in view of Neal. He realized almost too late that he had ignored his son's wishes, using the name that had been habit since the boy was young.

He saw the jar on the table wobble, the depictions of fae folk at play almost dancing with the shakiness of the furniture it sat atop. Neal had snapped the cloth back, looking up with the swiftness of one who had been caught in a daydream. It was this that had caused the unsteadiness. Gold dropped his cane holding his hands down below to catch the falling jar.

Neal watched all of this with horror, a stark expression that made his face look almost childlike. As the jar fell into his hands, Gold saw him hurry to hold the table steady. "I'm sorry, I guess I was just surprised." he cleared his throat, turning his attention now fully to the jar. "What is it? I've never seen it here before."

"Of course not." Gold placed it back upon the table, holding it steady and feeling it vibrate under his fingers, the mad shaking turning to a gentle hum under his silent willing. "It's a... recent acquisition."

Neal raised his eyebrows as his mouth turned downward. "Pop… what exactly…?"

Gold shook his head. "It's not dangerous...well… not entirely. I thought it would provide a bit of fun for the boy. Under _my supervision_ of course."

"What. Is. It?"

Gold grabbed the lid, pulling it off to reveal a pile of glittery substance. Neal knew what it was. It took all of his strength not to recoil.

"Fairy dust."

Neal had retreated upstairs shutting the door behind him, not slamming it per say, but closing it forcefully and leaning against it. It had been a bad idea, coming here, a really bad idea. He knew his father had kept the shop, but the fact that he still _collected_. It was something he thought that he'd put behind him. He probably had too much faith in Aiden Gold, even still. He'd been stupid enough to think that maybe, he was done, that he was focused more on the business. Conning fools out of their pay with a few cheap tricks, not collecting the _real deal_. Huck had been right, and that was the scariest part of all of this.

" _You know that old man probably has some. You said it yourself. He's a magic collector. Ain't that why you left?"_

" _He doesn't. He's done I'm sure of it. I was a kid. It probably wasn't even real."_

" _You hate magic right? Took your old man from you. That's what you said. That's what got you in Cassidy...or…. should I say Gold? Prove yourself. Take it. Then they'll be safe."_

 _As he sat outside the cafe, Neal saw two boys, one talking to the other in hurried tones. The other looked hesitant, but then, those familiar words spoken by the other._

" _Cross my heart, hope to die…"_

 _Huck was watching as well, then turned back to Neal. "Stick a needle in my eye."_

He would wait until closing time, wait for his father to fall asleep. Then he'd act and be gone before the man woke up in the morning. He'd be out of Storybrooke before sunrise.

* * *

Another smack, a hard kick. Henry could taste the leather of Jacky's sneakers. "No wonder your name's Swan. You're such a girl, you can't even fight back!" This was a daily occurrence. Henry would sit on top of the playground, usually the roof of the castle, with a book Mary Margaret had given him, looking up each second, until he saw Jacky, one of the third graders. Then he would barely be able to jump off with his backpack on him before it was open season. "Reading fairy tales _princess_! Toughen up!" Another hard smack as he fell onto the pavement. Always the concrete, never grass. Sometimes mulch if he was lucky where Henry would escape with a few slivers and scrapes, but Jacky Kennesey was never that generous more than once.

"I didn't do anything to you!" Henry said. "Leave me alone!"

"I'm gonna get Miss Blanchard!" Nicholas could be heard. Henry looked up as his classmate ran only to be stopped by Freddy grabbing him by the ear and twisting. "Augh!"

"Don't even think about it twerp."

"What are you doing?" Henry heard another voice, oddly familiar, but he couldn't look up since Jacky pinned him down.

"Teaching these babies to toughen up." Freddy said. No sooner had he spoken, that Henry heard an oomf and whimpers.

Then the footsteps moved toward him. Henry could see a pair of white gym shoes, caked with red as the owner crouched, grabbing Jacky's hands twisting them behind his back as he kicked and kept kicking, allowing Henry finally to stand and limp over to Nicholas. He was also standing, stock still and watching the action with an open mouth.

Henry's eyes drifted over to where Freddy lie holding his head as red dripped out of his mouth. Whoever it was must have kicked pretty hard. Henry knelt as Nicholas looked on with wide eyes shaking his head frantically. "Do you need help?"

"Miss Blanchard!" Nicholas seemed to snap out of his daze as Henry spoke already running toward the school building in search of their teacher.

"Not from _you._ " Freddy held his mouth. Henry could see his hand overflowing. He struggled to his feet heading in the opposite direction.

Henry sighed. "Sorry…" He said to no one.

"Why're you apologizing?" Henry heard the voice again, trying to remember where he recognized it from. "They were pummeling _you_." He turned to see the boy from the principal's office.

"That doesn't mean they shoulda been hurt. They were right." Henry's voice was soft. "I _am_ a baby."

The boy looked confused. His eyebrows disappeared into his hair, fair and fine as gold. "That's not true. They're jerks. You're Henry right?"

"Uh-huh." Henry nodded. "And you're Peter!" He grinned.

"Yeah." Peter held out a hand and this time Henry took it.

"This means we're friends right?" Henry said. "Now I gotta help you."

"I'll hold you that." Peter smiled. "Friend."

* * *

Mary Margaret had walked him home from school. Now she and Mommy were in the bathroom with him, helping him clean off from the fight with Jacky as Henry narrated his encounter with Peter.

"He twisted his arm all the way back. He probably broke it!" Henry said. "But he helped us get Jacky and Freddy to stop. And he said we could be friends. Ow! Mommy!"

"Sorry Kiddo." His mom removed the cloth from where she'd been wiping one of his scrapes. Her eyes were puffy. That's how adults looked when they cried. "I told you it would sting."

"So you and Peter are friends? That's great!" Mary Margaret grinned.

"Yeah, except I don't think Nick likes him very much. But maybe when he isn't twisting Jacky's arm he will."

"Maybe…" Mommy exchanged a look with Mary Margaret who shrugged. "Alright I think that's the last of it Kid. You're all set."

"Thanks Mommy!" Henry ran out of the bathroom only briefly hearing as his mom and Mary Margaret whispered to each other.

It was late at night, and Henry was still looking at the star. He heard his mommy crying...again. He knew she'd been crying earlier because of her eyes when she was "patching him up". She hadn't stopped, not even when she and Henry were eating dinner and she thought he couldn't see. "Don't cry Mommy. Daddy's gonna be home soon right?" That had started her crying even more. She was shaking her head, the way people did when they were saying no, but she didn't say anything. This is why Henry had a funny feeling in his stomach. He couldn't finish his mac and cheese and had run upstairs to find the star.

He remembered what Wendy had said in the movie when she wanted to go to Neverland. Maybe he could find his dad there and bring him home so Mommy could stop crying. They shared the star right? Maybe Daddy had gotten bored fighting fires and went there. "I believe." He shut his eyes tight. "I _believe_."

A gust of wind threw him backwards as the room was sucked into darkness. A shadowy figure with glowing eyes appeared on the window ledge holding out a hand. Henry scrambled forward. "Will you take me to Neverland?"

A single nod.

"Okay. I trust you." Henry grabbed the shadow figure's hand, and suddenly he was up in the air, flying above Storybrooke. He didn't know what would happen, but he felt excited. He was flying! He was flying to Neverland!

* * *

 _ **A/N: And so, things begin. After this, there will probably be one more chapter with young Henry and an interlude of sorts to bridge the gap before we meet teenage Henry. Coming up: Henry sees Neverland, Emma, Mary Margaret and David take notice of Henry's change in behavior, as (yes, I know I promised it in this chapter) Neal meets up with an old friend after he delivers the goods to Huck.**_


	5. Chapter 5

**_A/N: Alright, chapter five ready. This was a fun one to write, and this is also a long one. The last before the interlude. A lot happens._**

* * *

 **Chapter Five: I'll See You In Dreams**

He was falling. The Shadow had dropped him and he was falling. He saw the trees heading toward him at lightning speed. He had no control. He closed his eyes. He didn't want to see the crash, boom. It never came. He felt someone holding his hand. "Kid, hey kid!" A voice with a strong accent. "You can look you know. You're safe." As the voice spoke Henry felt himself land gently on his feet, and he finally opened his eyes.

He stood in the middle of a wooded area, a jungle, wild and boundless. It seemed to stretch for miles with all manner of plants, some Henry had never seen before. It was all color and light and darkness and strangeness. Most startling of all was the feeling of something alive. Even though he and the unknown boy seemed to be the only ones here, everything seemed as though it could feel. It was excitement, a thrill Henry had never felt in a _place_ before.

"What… what is this place?" Henry felt as though he knew the answer, but he wanted to hear someone else say it. Just proof he wasn't dreaming.

"Why… _Neverland_ of course!" The boy next to him gave a howling laugh. He floated upwards, flipping in midair as the laugh morphed into a crow, a brilliant sound of pure joy, of freedom. "And who might you be?"

"Henry." Henry watched the boy, trying, trying to place the boy's mannerisms, his face. There was something familiar, but it probably wasn't important. He was _in_ Neverland.

"Good to meet you Henry." The boy grinned. "I'm Peter, Peter Pan! Welcome to the island!"

Henry barely had time to offer a handshake before Peter Pan was lifting him, higher, higher, until they were in flight, above the island. Flying, for the second time. Henry couldn't believe his luck! Somehow, flying with Peter Pan was different. He felt safer and he could enjoy the view. Everything on the island seemed like an ant colony. They could land and be in the middle of it, but it was still miles below. He saw the water, sparkling and dancing against the crags, a young mermaid girl splashing and frollicking as she waved, they passed the Indian village, a series of caves and then, then Henry looked over to Peter Pan himself. The boy's face was absolutely open, pure exhilaration. He felt his grip tighten, trying to get the boy's attention.

"Where are we going?" Henry had to shout to be heard.

"Ever seen a Neverbird Henry?"

All he could do was shake his head. "What's that?"

"It's brilliant, that's what it is!" He pointed down below. "Looks like the boys got one."

"What do you…?" Henry felt his stomach drop as Pan pulled him along, they were dropping, a huge great speed. He wasn't sure they'd even make the landing. And… he didn't.

He was rolling, bumping his knee, his back, and his head on the hard ground as Peter Pan simply brushed himself off and walked over. "Ow!"

"You'll get used to it." Pan held out a hand that Henry took, glaring.

"You dropped me!"

"I must've went too fast." Pan rubbed his chin, then shrugged. "Happens I guess."

"That was mean!"

"I said I was sorry."

"Nuh-uh!"

"Well, I said it now, so that counts."

Henry huffed. It didn't count. But as he looked around, the anger evaporated as he saw a giant creature with vines wrapped around its neck, being held by another boy who sat on the creature's back, holding the vines like reins.

SQUAA! The creature (Henry could see a beak clearly now) arched its neck forward revealing a bunch of multicolored feathers as it, aimed for Henry with its giant head. Henry jumped back bumping into another boy.

"Whoa, it almost took you out!" A pair of arms reached under Henry's lifting him up. The boy had a shock of amber hair that barely covered his face. "I'm Kas. Are you new?"

"Visiting." Henry said.

"Sure, sure." The boy nodded, sharing a look with Peter Pan that Henry couldn't distinguish as he read the terror on Henry's face. "You must be new. You've never seen a Neverbird. Haven't seen anyone that scared since Felix almost whizzled himself."

"Shut up Kas!" The boy riding the Neverbird glared.

"I...I wasn't scared." Henry whispered.

"S'all right." Kas clapped him on the back. "Fear's important ain't it?"

"Keeps you sharp." The boy, Felix, jumped off of the Neverbird's back still holding the reins and giving a hard tug. Henry could swear he heard the bird scream. "What's your name?"

"Henry."

"Good to meet you Henry." Felix's mouth twisted. "Hope to see you again sometime."

"What do you mean?" Henry looked between Pan and Felix.

"Your time's up. It's almost morning." Pan replied. "I'm sure your Mum wouldn't appreciate you being gone all night."

It was then he remembered. It hit him like a shot. He'd come here to find his Daddy, not to look at Neverbirds. "Wait, I have to… I have to find him!"

"Next time right?" Pan shrugged. "Come on." The boy grabbed his hand, and suddenly he was flying, Kas waving, Felix just watching. They grew smaller and smaller.

What seemed like only minutes later, he was on the the floor of his bedroom near the window, a blanket draped over him as his mom looked down at him.

* * *

"Henry…" Emma watched as her son ate the cereal, slowly, looking at it as if it were some foreign substance. "Hey kiddo, your marshmallows are getting soggy." Emma tapped Henry's foot with her own. "You okay?"

"Yup, I'm just not hungry." Henry pushed the bowl away, getting to his feet and moving from the table to pack his bag for school.

Emma watched her son retreating and sighed. He'd never not eaten his cereal before, and she had found him sleeping next to the window, which had been wide open. None of this added up. She reached for her cell phone and dialed.

"Mary Margaret? I know you're probably already at school, but I need a favor."

"Emma, what's wrong, are you okay?"

"Would you mind keeping an eye on Henry today? He's not telling me something." Emma said.

"Kids have secrets Em." Mary Margaret laughed. "But yeah, I'll see if I can get anything out of him."

"Thank you!"

"Sure," Mary Margaret sighed. "Are _you_ okay Emma?"

"Yeah." Emma nodded even though Mary Margaret couldn't see her. "Yeah I'm fine."

"Emma…" Mary Margaret's voice took on the tone she had with some of her students. Emma could almost see the brunette's frown through the phone.

"I'll talk to you later." Emma spoke quickly hanging up before Mary Margaret could get another word in.

* * *

Neal walked up to the old building knocking twice, two sharp taps of his fist. He could feel the pouch growing hot in his pocket. He wanted to get rid of it, before something went wrong, or rather something _else_. He already had a laundry list of screwups, he didn't want it growing anymore.

"Well, well. You made it." A young woman answered the door, placing one hand on his cheek, the other on the door frame.. "I was beginning to think you forgot all about us Mr. Cassidy."

"Tamara." Neal nodded pushing her hand gently off of him. "Where's Huck?"

"He had to step out. But why don't you come in? I'm sure I can help."

Neal sighed. He was really hoping this would have just been a quick drop off, but maybe a bit of socializing wouldn't be so bad. He was tired, and he didn't know where else he could go at least until he knew the delivery was in safe hands. He didn't entirely trust Tamara, but she was a part of this too, so he had to play nice, plus, she wasn't nearly as intimidating as Huck. "Just for a bit."

"Of course." She smiled as he walked in and shut the door behind them. "So, you got it?"

Neal tapped his pocket. "I still don't get why we need _this_."

"Nobody knows." Tamara shrugged. "Remember? We just get our orders, we don't get to ask questions. Can I get you a coffee?"

He nodded absently. Neal found it strange, the whole no asking questions stipulation. Considering what they were responsible for taking, but then… he remembered what had almost happened to the last guy when he'd first gotten in, Greg something or other. And as Tamara walked to the kitchen, focused on the coffee machine, Neal pulled out his cell phone. He scrolled through the contacts absently until he found the name he was looking for.

 **It's Neal...Cassidy. I'm not sure if you still have this number, you still got that place in Manhattan?**

" _Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Neal couldn't back up fast enough. The kid had seemed non threatening, an easy target. He looked like one of those pharmacy students that hung around Storybrooke Medical: collared shirt, gawky stance and shoes without a scuff mark, rich kid. Now that he actually saw the kid's face, he knew he'd made a mistake. It was closed off, raised eyebrows, pursed lips and his eyes, his eyes didn't hold any surprise, rather he looked angry, amused? He couldn't tell and that was frightening. The kid had at least three years on him, and more than a few inches. Why did he think he could pickpocket a rich high school senior?_

 _He didn't answer, just tried to make himself look as tall as possible, backing away, holding his hands out, showing he meant no ill. He'd only been away from home for two days, and he would already be getting in a fight. He was almost positive, his fear showed on his face. A fact made all the more obvious by the kid's reaction. His expression softened as his hand reached out, snatching Neal gently by the collar, and bringing him closer._

" _Kid, you okay?"_

 _Neal narrowed his eyes as he fought the other boy's grasp. "I'm fine!"_

" _You don't look so good." The kid raised his eyebrows. "Have you had anything to eat?"_

 _On cue, Neal's stomach emitted a low gurgling growl._

" _I take that as a no." The boy laughed wrapping an arm around Neal's shoulder companionably. "Come on, I know a place, and you won't have to steal for your meal."_

 _Neal let himself be dragged along. He knew he wouldn't be able to escape the kid's hold on him. He wasn't strong enough, even if he had had a proper meal, and the way he was holding him didn't provide good leverage for a hit to the ankle. Plus the temptation of food… he could already feel his mouth watering._

" _So, you got a name?" the kid asked. "Mine's August, August Gionni." Now that Neal was listening, he could hear the slight lift that signalled Italian. One thing his Papa had taught him was to recognize other languages, even if he didn't get to actually go on travels with him. "And before you ask, yeah Gionni as in the toymaker's. Now you gotta tell me yours."_

 _Neal nodded even though he didn't actually know anything about any toymaker named Gionni. His Papa bought him a lot of gifts from his travels, but he hadn't paid attention to labels or brand names. "Neal…" He blinked. August had given his last name. Neal couldn't. If he did, they'd have him back to Storybrooke on the next bus. His Papa had probably already considered him missing, filed a report or something. He didn't want to be found. "Cassidy." It came out without him thinking, then he recognized why. The record store had been playing those old songs. He figured, the guy wouldn't mind if he borrowed his name. He nodded. "Neal Cassidy."_

" _Nice to make your acquaintance Neal Cassidy." August stopped, holding out a hand. "Here we are, Antonio's. Best cuisine this side of the city."_

 _Neal looked up at the building. It looked fancy, awnings and everything. "How do we pay for it?"_

" _Don't worry about it." August said. "I know a guy."_

Neal looked down as his phone dinged. **Hey Neal! Long time. Yeah. You can come stay. Last roommate bailed anyway. Call when your flight gets in.**

Neal sighed in relief. **Thanks man. I owe you one.**

 **More like twenty. No worries!**

The clipped manner of the texts probably _should_ have worried him, but Neal had been expecting that. H **e** just hoped he could fix one relationship. He'd consider that a victory.

* * *

It was recess time and Henry hadn't moved from his desk. His head was down on top of his elbows and if Mary Margaret didn't know any better, she'd think he was sleeping. She walked over to him.

"Henry… hey, you alright?" She shook him by the shoulder gently as the boy looked up.

"I'm fine Miss Blanchard." Henry sat up.

"Don't you want to play outside?"

"No." Henry shook his head. "I think I'll stay in here."

Mary Margaret frowned as an idea occurred to her. "Hey, as long as you're staying, do you want to help me with something?"

The boy perked up. "What is it?"

"Why don't you come on over and see?" Mary Margaret walked over to her desk as she searched out the book she was looking for. It was leather bound, looked as though it should have been falling apart. It had been a gift from Regina when Mary Margaret had first gotten the teaching job, back when Regina had been vice principal. " _You seem the fairy and sparkle type. Maybe this can help teach them about happy endings and magic and all that stuff you seem to like so much. They need that."_ Henry seemed to need it more than ever.

"A book?" Henry, Mary Margaret noticed, had appeared beside her. "For storytime?"

"Yeah, but I don't know which story to tell." Mary Margaret opened the book, revealing the title: _Once Upon a Time_. "Any ideas? You are the story expert."

Henry frowned deep in thought. Mary Margaret could see he was retreating into himself. "I dunno Miss Blanchard."

"Come on!" Mary Margaret grabbed his hand. "What's your absolute favorite?"

Henry gave a small grin. "Peter Pan."

"Peter Pan it is."

* * *

"Guess what?" Henry found Nicholas in the toy corner playing with a truck. Mary Margaret had just finished reading the story, and Henry was bursting to tell someone about his adventure.

"Why weren't you on the playground today?" Nicholas asked.

"I had to help Miss Blanchard, but guess what?"

"What?" Nicholas continued wheeling the truck, making it crash into Henry's foot.

"Last night… I went to Neverland."

"You mean like Wendy, John and Michael in the story?" Nicholas glanced up with wide eyes. "In your sleeptime?"

Henry shook his head. "No! I wasn't asleep. I said the words and a shadow came and scooped me up."

"You're bonkers!" Nicholas laughed. "Peter Pan didn't come hisself?"

Henry nodded then shook his head. "Well he did, but that was after, when I had to leave."

"You're fibbing. Neverland's in the book, and on the TV, everyone knows that you can't go there except when you're sleepin'. It's the rules." Nicholas said this with a serious expression. "Mikey said he saw you sleeping before recess. You prob'ly dreamed it."

"I didn't!" Henry shouted, angry tears threatening to burst.

"Alright, get your coats everyone!" Mary Margaret interrupted with a shout. "Time to get in line."

"If you say so." Nicholas gave him a sideways look as he ran to the cubbies.

Henry could see Mary Margaret's eyes on him as he wiped his face.

"Henry!"

He didn't respond as he grabbed his coat and ran outside toward the playground. He didn't stop until he reached the top of the castle. He let himself cry, finally, letting out all of the frustration: his daddy leaving, his mommy being sad all the time, the trip to Neverland, not finding his daddy while he was there, getting beat up by Jacky, Nicholas not believing him. It all came out in one long flood of tears.

"Henry… you alright there Friend?" Henry squinted as he heard the voice. It was Peter. He was climbing up the playground, looking at him with worry.

Henry shook his head.

"What's bugging you?" Peter sat next to him, his much longer legs dangling. Henry thought he could jump off and land like a cat if he wanted to.

And then it all came out. Henry wasn't sure why, but he wanted to tell Peter everything. In a way that he never did with Nicholas. "...And I didn't find him. Then I told Nick after Miss Blanchard's story. He didn't believe me. He thought it was bonkers."

"That's not very nice." Peter frowned. "Did you have fun there? Neverland?"

Henry sniffled. "You believe me?"

Peter nodded grinning. "Oh yeah, course. You're really lucky! Wish I could've went."

"Everyone says you're too old after you're five." Henry shifted. "It's just a story."

"They're the bonkers ones. Remember that." Peter bumped him in the shoulder. "It's no fun if it's _just_ a story!"

Henry looked up in astonishment. Peter was one of the big kids, and he believed about Neverland! "Really?"

"Stories are a lot more than that, if you let them be." Peter tapped Henry on the shoulder, jumping down from the castle, landing perfectly on his feet. _Like a cat_. "You coming?"

Henry nodded, jumping down after him, still in shock. Peter sure was interesting, and he was letting him tag along!

* * *

 _ **A/N: Alrighty, so things are in motion... haha! Thoughts, theories, suggestions questions. Drop em in a review. In terms of the interlude, we'll get a little bit of everyone's thoughts, and a bit of an inside look on what has happened in the years since, before we are back into the thick of it with chapter six.**_


	6. Interlude: Let the Game Begin

_**A/N: Well this interlude ended up quite a bit shorter than I anticipated, but I think it does a good job of setting up what's to come. But I'll let you decide.**_

* * *

 **Interlude:** **Let the Game Begin**

The years that followed were tumultuous for all involved. The evening after Henry told young Nicholas Zimmerman of Neverland, Emma told Henry of his father's death. Emma had no way of knowing of course how one lie for the sake of her son's image of his father would spiral out of control and send him down a path that would impact them all. There was one who knew, one who had a suspicion, and one who was no more than a helpless observer, powerless in his position.

The one who knew for certain was the same _one_ who was pulling the strings, the one who had a greater hold over the boy then even his own mother realized, the game maker. As the years progressed and more ice cream sundaes, cookies and after school snacks were enjoyed at the diner, this _one_ simply continued filling the boy's mind, watching the resentment, the anger and the confusion grow, fertilizing it as if it were a garden, priming him for harvest. The one who knew was biding time, playing the part to perfection, a chameleon in their lives. They wouldn't know until it was already too late.

The one who had a suspicion was in a perfect position to watch, to observe, to advise the boy. The one disadvantage of this position is that he was just as easily ignored, just as easily dismissed, and overpowered by the game maker's greater position in the boy's life.

The one who was an observer was also a ghost. The position decided long ago by one who sought to protect them all. Like many ghosts, he could reappear, but his decision would shake and shatter their paths. It is not until this arrival that the game maker can take the first turn. His pieces are in position, the rules are flexible, and his mind is full of tricks and traps. Let the game begin.

The stakes are as follows: One family, many secrets, two boys across two generations, two fathers, one devil waiting in the wings, and one land that does not part easily with those that venture forth.

Do you understand these risks? Of course. Do they? One can only hope, _believe_ , trust. For belief is the prize and trust the tool needed to survive. For as they say in Neverland: all it takes is faith and trust… and well… the rest is child's play.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Any guesses as to these three "ones" ? As for a bit of a sneak peek into what's next: we get glimpse into everyone's life now, what Henry and Emma are up to, David and Mary Margaret, where Neal's been, and we meet some others.**_


	7. Chapter 6

_**A/N: Alright, first chapter after the interlude is ready. This also introduces the story's subplot. The only things I own in this chapter are Eva Nolan and James Davis, and of course the plot.**_

* * *

 **Chapter Six: Travels and Trials**

Emma sat in the office watching as the doctor flipped through the forms. Her eyes drifted to the window, outside of which sat her son. She could imagine what he was doing. If he wasn't lost in the world of his headphones, he had his nose in a book, or a pencil flying over his sketchbook. His foot would probably be tapping erratically as he watched the clock waiting for the time to dwindle and praying that the two old friends would get lost in their talk.

"The best advice I can offer," Dr. Archibald Hopper steepled his hands, bringing them to his mouth almost in silent prayer, knowing already the firestorm his words would create. "Is to give Henry an outlet, something to put his energy into."

As Emma opened her mouth to protest, Archie held up a hand.

"Something _else_." The man's eyebrows knit together. "Without your um… company?"

"Are you saying that I spend _too much_ time with Henry?"

"Well…" Archie bit down on his tongue before he resumed speaking. "He's a teenager Emma. Space is something that is important. In Henry's _situation_ it's sometimes better that he spend time with others, find a mentor of sorts like he has with Peter, but maybe an adult in town, to ground him a bit in reality. Maybe try finding him an after school job?"

Emma nodded as she recalled her son's best friend. She had had her reservations at first, but Peter quickly proved himself a good friend and good company for Henry. But maybe an after school job could provide something else that neither she nor Peter could.

"Considering Henry's affinity for history, there's always Gold's Antiquities. Try talking to Aiden."

Emma shook her head. "No."

"Emma… it's a good idea."

" _Not_ Aiden Gold."

The psychologist sighed. "Miss Swan… he _is_ Henry's grandfather." He cleared his throat. "It could help him having that connection to his father."

Emma turned away staring at the clock on the wall, five minutes before Henry would knock on the door for his scheduled time with Archie, but could she really convince Dr. Hopper not to bring it up to him? The more she thought about it, the more, despite her kicking and screaming, that what he said seemed to make sense. That, more than anything, infuriated her. "Why do you always insist on pulling your psychobabble crap with _me?_ " She groaned. "Fine. I'll talk to Gold."

"You'll see." Archie smiled as the knock sounded right on cue. "Good afternoon Henry."

Emma placed a hand on Henry's shoulder, flinching only slightly as he squirmed. "I'll be back in an hour Kid."

"Okay Mom." Henry's voice was soft, his gaze urging her away. She pulled her hand back as she retreated from the office, closing the door behind her with a gentle click.

As she walked out of the practice onto the street, she thought of Neal, back to the beginning of their relationship.

" _You know, it's been three months." Emma stirred her hot chocolate, looking at Neal playfully._

" _Three months, has it really been that long?" Neal said. "Is there some sort of anniversary I forgot? Is this like a big deal?" He put his hands up as Emma flicked her spoon in his direction sending whipped cream flying onto his nose._

" _It is so a big deal!" Emma laughed. "You're such a… oh my god!"_

" _Alright, I get it. Lay off Em!" Neal grinned. "So, what should we do?"_

" _Well," Emma twirled a strand of hair. "You met my brother, you met my mom, you even met Regina."_

 _Neal's expression wavered. "What's your point?"_

" _How come you never mention your family?"_

 _She saw his gaze growing steely. Neal looked down, suddenly hyper focused on the coffee in front of him. She saw his grip tighten on the mug as he released a sigh. "It's… complicated."_

" _Seriously?" Emma scoffed. "That's all you're gonna tell me? You better give more details or so help me Neal Cassidy…"_

" _What are you going to do?" Neal smirked._

" _Truth." Emma leaned across the table as her eyes glowed with mischief. "You walk me home, and the whole way, you can't tell one lie. Remember, I'll know." She raised her eyebrows holding out a hand. "Deal?"_

 _As the two teens faced each other, something in the atmosphere changed for both of them. For Emma, a taunt, a game was suddenly realized to be something much more serious. She could see it in his eyes. As for Neal, he suddenly realized that this round of truth would involve a complete leap of faith, something he hadn't allowed himself to take not since… a long time, and he didn't care in the slightest. Because for once, he was allowing himself to enjoy someone's company without expectation and it was fantastic._

" _Deal."_

During that walk, she'd learned so much more than she had ever wanted to know, and it had ended with a visit to Gold's Antiquities, right where she was now as a matter of fact. The sense of deja vu was revolting. Only this time, Neal wasn't with her. The ding of the little bell above the door sent her heart to her throat. _Now or never. For Henry, this is for Henry._ She told herself. All she had to do was remember that and she'd be able to survive this visit.

* * *

"How is your week so far Henry?" Dr. Hopper watched him. It was unsettling. Henry liked Dr. Hopper, he really did, but it was still forced conversation. He held the notebook tighter, paging through as he tried to keep it away from the doctor's prying eyes.

"Same as always." Henry shrugged. "School, Granny's, home."

"How's Peter? Have you seen him at all?"

"Yeah. He's alright." The sketchbook fell open to Henry's latest work, a group of boys around a great bonfire burning ten feet tall, stretching far beyond the tops of the trees that littered the jungle. They were in motion, dancing. The lines of the sketch captured each smile, each leaf, each blade of grass. Henry could tell by the doctor's change in expression that he had been caught.

"Is that new?" Dr. Hopper pointed to the page as he adjusted his glasses. "It's… really very good. May I?" He held out a hand.

Henry nodded, his expression unchanging as he relinquished the sketchbook. He waited for the words, the words he knew would come almost as certainly as he knew that today was Wednesday. He was never asked directly, not by anyone that mattered. For his mom, the words, the question itself was forbidden ever since that day he came home from school after he had fallen asleep during an exam, talking about a trip that had never happened. In a way, these Wednesday sessions were as much a catharsis as they were a sentencing.

"You visited recently?" Dr. Hopper's voice was jovial, welcoming. It was at these points in the session that Henry felt what everyone else was, but wouldn't say. He was nuts, but was it also wrong that despite the absurdity of the question, in talking about it normally, Henry _himself_ felt the most normal?

"Last night."

"And did you make any progress?"

"Not really." Henry sighed. "I tried to talk to her… after… well, after I came back." he tugged on his shirt sleeve. "Pan's right. They don't care." These last words were a whisper, but Dr. Hopper heard them. Henry could tell by the way he closed the sketchbook gently leaning forward.

"Pan?" Henry had never mentioned names. It was something new. He'd talked about his visits, about the boys, about adventures, but there was never a name. "As in…"

And just like that, Dr. Hopper saw the window close. Henry's lips pursed, he leaned back as his arms crossed over his chest. "Take your best guess. But yeah, they could care less. No matter how many times I ask."

"Henry," Dr. Hopper said. "There is one way you could find out." He knew he was taking a risk, assuming that Emma's conversation with the man would go well, that she would talk to him at all, but it was his job as Henry's therapist to provide an opening. Sometimes the families he worked with just needed a nudge in the right direction. As he explained, he saw Henry's mouth twitch, a small sign, but a sign nonetheless, and he felt hope.

* * *

"Rise and shine Princess." Neal felt a pillow hit him in the head. "Come on get up! You're coming with me today." He sat up, pushing the pillow to the floor, only to be greeted by August who was somehow, already dressed, as he kicked an open suitcase toward him. "Pack."

"Mmm…" Neal rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "You gonna tell me what this is about, and why a suitcase is involved?"

August didn't answer as he clicked the box that held his typewriter shut. "You gonna tell me why you're still asleep at 11:00?"

"We can't all be journalists." Neal smirked. "Speaking of which, why do you still bother writing for that asshole anyway?"

"We can't all be moochers either." August rolled his eyes tossing Neal a button down from the closet. "It's called work, you should try it sometime."

"Sydney Glass is a bastard, there's a reason nobody reads that paper. It's trash." Neal walked to the bathroom shutting the door behind him as he shouted through. "You could be a Times reporter."

"Not everyone is a stick in the mud Cassidy. Now do you want to hear why I gave you the suitcase?"

Neal stayed silent as he began brushing his teeth. August would tell him anyway. He didn't have to answer.

"Missing kids."

Neal almost choked as he rinsed his mouth. "Isn't that a little...uh I don't know _hard_ for the _Magic Mirror_? Last I checked you didn't write a crime blotter."

"That's not the point." August said. "The point is _where_."

Neal splashed his face walking out of the bathroom. "Alright I'll bite. Where?"

"Storybrooke Maine."

He froze. Storybrooke of _all_ of the places where kids could vanish? "I can't come."

August sighed. "I had to practically lick Sidney Glass' shoes to get permission to do this story. There is _no way_ that I'm letting you bail on me."

"You know, normally, I'd be totally on board for a road trip, but I can't go to Storybrooke."

"You never told me why you left in the first place." August said.

"I did. Emma kicked me out." Neal shook his head.

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Okay." Neal grabbed the suitcase. "I'll come."

August watched his friend as he walked back and forth between the closet and where the suitcase sat on the bed. Neal was complicated, a puzzle in his own right. They'd been roommates for nine years, and August was no closer to understanding him then when they'd first met as teenagers. He hadn't understood the man's aversion to his hometown then, and still couldn't understand it now. He couldn't understand how he could be completely cut off, but still receive a phone call after more than 17 years. He couldn't understand how his effort to help could have led to 17 years of silence. When he'd heard about the strange occurrences, no more than rumors, from Graham, he figured it would make a good story: just the sort of thing that could get him back in Glass' good graces, a story with just enough mystery and intrigue to get people to read his shit rag. Then he had heard about where it happened, and knew he had to drag Neal along.

"Good, 'cause I need your help."

* * *

David looked at the file. A grinning child with brown hair stared back at him. Couldn't be older than five.

"Roland Locksley…" David ran a hand through his hair. He was one of Mary Margaret's students. He hadn't shown up for class. His father had come into the station panicked yesterday evening, and it was a mere two hours away from the 24 hour mark.

"This is the third case this month Dave. Are you _sure_ you aren't any closer to finding a connection?" George asked. George was the chief, rarely came in, rarely did more than handle paperwork. Storybrooke was so small that David and Graham were able to handle most things on their own, but _this_ , this was nothing like their usual robberies at the pharmacy.

"They're all boys, they all live in the area, but other than that…" David shook his head. "Roland Locksley, the O'Neil triplets, and James Davis have nothing in common. Different ages, different interests. They didn't even know each other. Other than attending Storybrooke elementary and high schools respectively, there's nothing linking them."

"Dig harder." George sighed as he sunk into the chair. "God damn it!"

David nodded as he heard his cell phone go off, with the familiar Disney melody: Eva. "Sorry, I have to take this."

"David, no personal calls…"

But he'd already walked into the office. "Hey sweetheart, everything okay?"

"Mommy says you gotta be home. Aunty Emma and Henry are coming over remember?"

"That's _right_." David sighed. "Is Mommy there Evie?"

"Uh-huh." David could hear Eva running. "Mommy, Daddy wants to talk to you."

"David?" Mary Margaret's voice could be heard down the line.

"Hey Mary Margaret, I'm going to be home a little later than I thought. It's just this case… there's no leads, George is breathing down my neck. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Mary Margaret said. "I'm sure Evie and I can manage to keep them busy until you get here. Just… don't stress yourself out."

"Easier said than done." David groaned. "There has to be something we're missing."

"You'll figure it out. I love you."

"Love you too. I'll see you soon."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Alright, so I'm almost certain this chapter led to more questions than answers. I know it did for me, and I came up with the story in the first place, but answers will come I promise. As for the next chapter: more with Henry and the Swan/Nolan family, more with Henry at school. We will also meet Henry's teacher, another familiar face, who assigns a special project as Gold considers Emma's proposal and Killian arrives in Storybrooke. Also a word about Eva. She is a replacement for Prince Neal in this universe, and is a bit of a composite of both Neal Nolan and how I imagine Emma would be as a little girl, but she is solely an original character of mine. Any eagle eyed Oncers who can remember where the name Eva comes from?**_


	8. Chapter 7

_**A/N: Hello all, chapter seven ready. Hope you enjoy. I don't own Once Upon a Time, just my idea.**_

* * *

 **Chapter Seven: What's Stopping You?**

"Henry!" He could barely look up, the revving of his mind making his head feel a full ton heavier. Archie Hopper's words circulated, buzzing and begging him to take notice, so much so that he couldn't bring himself to meet his friend's eyes, both for want and for fear of a scheme. A scheme he couldn't afford. "Hey!" Henry felt Peter reaching for his arm, a swat.

"Sorry." Henry tried to smile. "Just a bit distracted."

"Oh yeah," Peter said. He jumped up onto the edge of the dumpster, shut and sitting at the end of the alley, just close enough to the therapist's office to not draw attention, and far enough from Granny's to avoid the wrong sort. It was Peter's favorite hideaway and as a result soon became one of Henry's. "You had your visit to Cricket."

Henry rolled his eyes. "Why do you call him that?"

"He's a cartoon!" Peter smirked. "It's all very Pinocchio don't you think? He makes you feel bad about whatever it is you did wrong."

Henry smiled in spite of himself. "It does suit him, I mean his last name's Hopper."

"Now you're getting it!" Peter clapped him on the shoulder. "Seriously though Mate, what's wrong?"

Henry shrugged. "Something Dr. Hopper said. He… well he asked me if I ever asked Grandpa about my dad."

Peter's mouth disappeared into a line. "What's so bad about that? You've been wanting to find out about what happened to him right?"

Henry squinted, staring at his hands. "It's just...I don't really _know_ him. He never comes around and mom never told me anything about him. I don't think he was even in any pictures."

"But… what's stopping you? Doesn't he work at that old shop? You could pop in and out." Somehow, Peter managed to make it make sense, even as Henry could see his friend's wheels turning.

"I don't think that's such a good idea. Mom wouldn't…"

Peter laughed. "You actually _care_? If they won't tell you themselves, you have to talk to Mr. Gold!" He hopped down off the dumpster. "If you wait for permission, they'll just keep shoving it off. If you want answers, get them, what's stopping you?"

Henry frowned. There was something _right_ in what Peter was saying. They never did tell him anything, what actually happened. Just that there was a fire uptown, his dad had been called to help and then never came home. Leroy had told him once that his dad had managed to save people inside the building, but the smoke took him. And that was the last he heard of the subject. There was something strange about it though. Later, he'd decided to check the records at the library, but there was nothing about a structure fire, nothing that could fit the description of what everyone told him. If he was honest with himself, it was this that made the idea of Neverland still so appealing. It was this that made the idea of the family dinner in just a few short minutes so frightening. Somehow he knew that the story, the land they had shared could offer more answers than his own family. That's why he kept going back. Even this stranger that was supposed to be his grandfather seemed a more appealing choice.

"Henry!" he heard his mom's shout.

Peter shrugged. "Have fun."

 _Yeah_. Henry waved, shouldered his backpack began walking in the direction of the odd yellow bug. _Fun._

* * *

Gold watched the old-fashioned phone, tapping his fingers against the counter. It was nearly impossible to find good help these days. The fact that his phone hadn't rung yet meant one of two things. Either the young man was lost or he had simply forgotten. His thoughts drifted to the afternoon, and the conversation with Miss Swan. He hadn't seen her in...well it was better not to think of that. Her unexpected appearance brought up feelings he had done well in tamping down regarding his son, what he knew had happened nine years previous. And the fact that Miss Swan had asked for help with the boy. It should have given him a semblance of joy, but all that Aiden could think about was the fact that she had _lied_. They both knew what had really happened, and she expected him not to share the truth.

" _You believe you are doing what is best for him." Gold nodded. "I can respect that, but I cannot be a part of it."_

 _Emma pursed her lips. "All I'm asking is, if Henry asks you about...about him, don't tell him that he may be… that he is…"_

" _You've dug yourself into quite the ditch haven't you Dearie?" Aiden's mouth curled. "I cannot make any promises. I will not lie to my grandson." He leaned against his cane. "I will answer any questions he asks me, and I will try my best to correspond with the… tale you've told, but this shop is full of secrets Miss Swan. If your boy finds something you do not want him to see, well… you should have thought about that before you asked for my help."_

" _You'll let Henry work here?" Emma asked._

" _Yes, but Emma?" Gold held up a finger. "There is a certain way I run things. If he cannot hold himself to the standard, I'm afraid the deal is off. Family or no."_

" _Right." Emma sighed. "So he can start coming in…"_

" _Friday."_

" _Thank you." Emma sighed._

The twinkling ring of the phone snapped Gold out of his reminiscing. "Gold's Antiquities, mmhmm. Yes, wonderful to hear from you Captain. Yes, well, you had better hope that he is as hard a worker as you believe, because apparently he is lost. Storybrooke is not nearly so large that one should be _lost_." Gold listened to the man on the other end of the phone as his protests grew in volume. "No I do not think it is unreasonable. I appointed a time, and it is already ten minutes past. I expect my employees to be on time." Gold lifted the phone from his ear and slammed it into it's cradle. Yes, it was definitely impossible to find good help.

* * *

 _ **A/N: So, what do you think? Let me know! I'd love to hear your thoughts.**_


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